


How to cook for a bunch of lunatics

by Nightalp



Series: The family you choose [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angry Loki, Cooking, Graphic description of food, M/M, POV Original Character, Protective Loki, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 07:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2339423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightalp/pseuds/Nightalp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A good chef is a magician.</p><p>That's what Jean's uncle told him when he was four years old. Now he's an adult, and a cook, and cooking for Loki and his household means he has to be a magician or he would never get anything done.</p><p>Or: Jean is trying to prepare dinner and preventing angry!Loki from killing someone (who might or might not deserve it) means he has to let himself get blown by his boss.<br/>Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to cook for a bunch of lunatics

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, that's actually Jean's POV on chapter 43 of [Protector](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1022124/chapters/4804533) and I'm not sure whether it makes sense without reading that ... though probably it does.  
> Enjoy reading.

_A good chef is a magician._

That's what Jean's uncle had said once to his easily impressed four-year-old nephew, and these wise words coming from the star-chef Jared Thomasson meant Jean had taken this words to heart (there was also the tiny issue of uncle Jared being the only one of his family still speaking to him after he announced he would apply his carefully schooled and father-funded cooking skills in New York; neither his father (india's second-most wanted Bollywood actor) nor his mother (French politician) could understand that Jean had always known that fate (or the norns, or Brahma, or whoever else) had meant him to be in the Big Apple and cooking there for an alien pseudo-norse god and his bunch of strays.)

 

Though ... cooking  for this particular client was something he should have known would be strange from the start.  After all , when he tried to repay Loki for picking him up from the street after he got  knocked down and robbed with preparing breakfast (then still unknowing that this was  _ his place _ but loving th e kitchen at once) he found himself at the business end of a rather sharp knife held by a man that was ...  _really_ determined to have him as his personal cook.

Fortunately for both of them Jean had been searching for an employment anyway (though, to be accurate, he had planned to ditch the madman with the knife as fast as possible and was still not sure whether Loki had used magic to make that thought slip his mind until he had given it up, or if the fact that he gave him, literally, free reign within the kitchen was enough to forgive the rather unpleasant way he had been pressured into this job).

And now, two years later, he was still here - he couldn't with good conscience dumb this job on some other unsuspecting fool. Really, cooking for  _this_ bunch ...

Mary was okay. As long as he skipped certain meals and foods she was even prepared to face cheeseburgers. And her preference for pot coffee ... well, as far as he was concerned, coffee belonged in tiramisu and nowhere else, but he could deal with it.

Sigyn was only a touch more difficult - different Asgardian meal traditions meant she ate more for dinner than for lunch, but that was okay. And, okay, he had to prepare enough that two persons could easily get full for her, but that was easily done, too. And even her preference for spicy foods was okay. Much more difficult to deal with was the fact that she had the taste buds of a frog (as Loki had so aptly put it to explain why she made no difference between his meals and the chinese take-out she ate when he was out for a day or two).

The worst of them was Loki.

Well, he should have expected it. Even before he knew who it was that he had taken employment with (and he had had a minor freak-out when Mary told him casually some months in that his boss was not only a knife-wielding magical alien but  _the_ knife-wielding magical alien; if not for Loki having become rather ... tamed at the time already, and he having grown fond of the man behind the villain, he would have run immediately without ever thinking about how to keep him from the nastier mischief) he had already known that he was ...  _a special cookie_ . Only a bit bothered by his heritage Loki had revealed to him his other form three days in to fully take in the aroma of the chili sin carne he had cooked (before he became adapt in how to change his aesir taste buds to something a bit more ... sensitive. Obviously Aesir cooking was something one enjoyed with a gourmet tongue on one’s own peril).

But him being jotun seemed to come with an appetite even more peculiar than Sigyn's: Loki ate depending on the amount of magic he had done the day, which meant he could need everything between two to five portio ns, not to mention the fact that he preferred flesh and poultry as an aesir, and fish and mussels as jotun. Then there were days he spend as a horse (normally when he came from Asgard, an d no, Jean really didn't want to know) and only ate vegan. And weeks when he had spend too much time as jotun and his alien hormones caused him to have something that Jean would call PMS in everyone else which meant he ate nothing but sweet and got almost homicidal over meals.

Really, Loki was a nuisance. But at least he appreciated Jean being a good cook, and not only paid him excellent but also let him do what he wanted in the kitchen.

 

Okay, and now he had another eater. Though Tony Stark -  _Anthony_ ; it was difficult to see the broken, vulnerable, increasingly affectionate man as the same superhero that had once saved the world from an alien invasion and New York from an atom bomb explosion alike - was pretty  undemanding . But him having starved for too long (how  _how_ can someone keep food from this man until he looks like barely more than skin and bones?!) meant he was digging into every food he got, and while Jean only gave him small portions on smaller plates (at least at first, when the psychological trick was better than outright denying him too much food, even for his own good) and Loki only allowed him as much second helpings as his stomach could handle Jean thought it better to not have his digestion tested with too heavy or spicy food. 

Which worked around as long as he remembered that the first thing he did after his return from his kidnapping in Afghanistan was eating cheeseburgers (so okay, maybe he had also made them because they were filling and Loki was always annoyed when he had to eat them, and Jean was still not sure whether to be comfortable with Tony Stark recovering in  _Loki's_ house, even though the man was doing a very good job with it so far).

 

Well, at least with him being famous and all over the internet it was very easy to get access to what Tony Stark liked (fast-food; probably because the man couldn't cook for himself), not liked (everything that took more than one hand and twenty minutes to eat;  _this_ Jean saw as his personal challenge) and any allergies the man had (none, as far as was known). 

And so he was now preparing filled crepes, a treat that he had yet to find someone to not like. Which was good, because preparing more than one meal that needed a giant mixing bowl was beyond his time management skills (his teachers had always told him he wouldn't do well in a restaurant for precisely this reason even if he was capable of creating meals fit for kings and stars; Jean always thought it was just another sign that he was meant to be where he was).

So, six eggs (really, grocery shopping for this guys was a  _hassle_ . If not for the fact that he had demands on the ingredients he would have ordered online, but alas, it wasn't possible, so he went in the early morning with the car to the market  squares to buy what he needed in great mass, and still needed to go to the supermarket around once a week), a liter milk, and  wholemeal flour in the bowl until he got a barely thickened mass. Everything  seasoned with salt and pepper, and then letting it  stay for a few minutes.

In the meantime he went to check on the washing machine - washing w as Mary's job, but having grown up in a house that had suffered an often leaking washing machine (his mother wasn't what one would call overly concerned with the issues of the daily life) he had grown accustomed to regular checking in on it - and write a short note that he had to remind Sigyn to pick up Loki's and her own suit for the Sylvester party Loki had been invited to (would he even go, with Anthony here? Really, from what Jean could see the affection was entirely  _not_ one-sided).

When he got th e  processed cheese from the store-room - one and a half kilo;  gluttons , all of them - he noted to himself t hat he would need to stock it up again; between Loki's milk-addiction and Mary loving cream y sauces they went through it entirely too fast.

He had cleaned and cut the champignon s already so he only had to prepare and fry the onions and then, after crying about the fact that no-one had yet bred less sad onions, get a third of it in the prepared dough.

 

It was while he fried the minced meat with the onions that he got the first suspicion that something was wrong - Loki's magic always send cold shudders down his spine, but for him to feel it he had to be in the same room as him or Loki had to release a very fucking big amount of it.

Frowning he looked up at the ceiling - he might not have learned to look  _through_ it, but after that one time when a pink oily slime had dropped down on him he had learned to not take anything for granted where magic was involved (thankfully Hel had removed the slime - she was much nicer than her father about cleaning up after her own messes).

But there was nothing there, and the flesh was beginning to get a bit too dark so he hurriedly stirred again. Though some instinct made him turn the stove off and when he heard the  unmistakeable steps of Loki on the stairs while the feeling of active  _angry_ magic got almost suffocating he knew something was wrong .

Very wrong. Probably even Very Wrong, the way he almost had to chew the air.

Shoving the pan on an unused  range he removed the apron and left the kitchen to stop Loki from doing whatever he was about  to do - the last time he had felt him this angry Dr. Doom had almost killed the Avenger's archer, and Jean knew enough about how Loki thought to know that he considered them  _his_ , and he got very  _very_ angry when someone hurt them beyond measure (not that this would keep him from killing them one day, Jean feared. Though maybe that was off now that he had Anthony in his house and actually  _cared_ about him). Dr. Doom at least hadn't been seen for three months afterwards anywhere in public, and the Doombots had only appeared again two more months later.

And really, here he was, coming down the staircase like some avenging angel set on a sinner, complete with the strange acting wind blowing in turn cold and hot air away from him (now Jean actually knew where Hollywood had gotten the idea of their heroes always having their hair blown out of their faces instead of into their eyes) and light flickering like flames around him.

Even knowing there wasn't much he could do to stop him from doing whatever he wanted Jean asked: "Is something wrong?"

Loki's head whipped around so fast that he feared he might have hurt himself. His face was white from anger, his eyes gleaming like coals, and if he had looked like this at the vikings Jean wasn't surprised anymore they had thought Loki might one day bring the end of days. "He said Anthony ran from his responsibility", he said in a raspy hoarse voice like he held a scream in, and, ok, that explained enough - whoever had dared insult Loki's favorite Avenger was in for a world of hurt, if not for death outright.

Not that Jean could really blame Loki. Between bein g a superhero and leading StarkIndustries from weapon manufacturing to clean energy and  everyday -technology Tony Stark had been a very responsible adult for the last few years (even wit h drinking too much in public, and being an ass from time to time in live tv, and not exactly anything what parents might like their kids to grow into). To have the cheek to say he would run away from all this ... whoever  _he_ was, he had to have a very personal grudge against Tony.

He was also probably not expecting that Tony had gone through what he went through (people who said things like this tended to be too ignorant of what might really have happened) and so also not that a norse god might slay him like an avenging angel before the Avengers themselves got a hold on him.

Which meant he had to keep Loki from doing this. But first things first: "What ... are you going to do?", he asked carefully. There was still the small tiny possibility that Loki might actually be sane about this for once.

That grin ... slow, deliberate, more a baring of teeth than an actual grin ... exactly as Jean had feared. No hope there for him being not absolutely crazy - Loki was on a killing trip (Jean had only ever seen him like this twice, and both times Sigyn had stopped him. Where was this damn aesir when he needed her?!).

"Maybe ... can we talk about it?", he suggested. Hoping Loki wouldn't vent his frustration out on him for proposing that (normally Loki was very considerate of his pets' needs and fragility, but there were moments when his temper took hold of him and he forgot almost everything around him).

But he was angry because of Anthony, wasn't he? Maybe he could use his as an ace. "I don't think Anthony would appreciate it when you killed to preserve his honor."

Maybe he should have thought about saying that again - the way Loki was looking at him now was not very ... encouraging.

And yep, there he was - pinned against the wall. The other's large muscled body pressed against his, making his breath hitch both in fear and arousal (he really wasn't that kinky, normally, nor was he into guys, but Loki had this way to stir feelings in him ... fuck, he just  _was_ damn hot, and just slender and beautiful enough that he seemed faintly feminine (not that he would ever dare tell him that) to awake lust in Jean), his back hurting (getting slammed into a wall is no fun, dammit!) and Loki almost spitting (nope, Jean took that back - nothing  _almost_ about this; what was it with madmen and spraying their spit everywhere?) into his face: "And what would you suggest I do?"

Oh goodie. That meant he at least knew Jean was right, and just searching for a way to get rid of his anger.

Less good - there were only two ways Jean knew how to do this, and he really wasn't up to a duel with an insanely strong and fast god. And hoping that Sigyn would magically appear just because he needed her was a bit too much to hope, he supposed.

Well, and gate number two wasn't that easy, either, but at least he was already half-way there. So it wasn't really a surprise that he answered, almost before he realized it: "A blowjob."

 

He grinned - as flirtatiously as possible; he really needed to be out more and work on his charm - and grabbed Loki's black shirt and pulled it slowly, seductively, out of his tight jeans, carefully shoving it up, then letting his fingers - fingers that were strong, and skillful from kneading dough and forming complicated ornaments for party cakes - play along Loki's waist while leaning in, letting Loki inhale his scent - he might be in his aesir shape, but even so he would subconsciously pick up on the arousal blurring Jean’s mind. "A nice ...", he whispered hotly, so Loki would have to strain to hear it, would have to  _focus_ on him. Then turning that focus against Loki by nibbling the collarbone so conveniently situated before him. "Hot ...", he continued, driving his point home by soothing the before abused flesh with his tongue and breathing warm air on the wet skin. And then he went in for the kill: "Loooong blowjob, teeth scraping over cock and"

As he had known he didn't get further. One moment he was leaning into Loki's body, the next he was back against the wall, his back and head complaining about the harsh treatment - but not for long. The sound of Loki ripping his trousers in two - that was so going on the housekeeping budget - brought him back, then there was a hand on his hip keeping him still and a mouth on his thighs.

It was that moment exactly that he remembered how really, truly dumb this whole idea was.

He had done this only a few times before - allowing Loki to have a go at him. Really, if not for Sigyn suggesting it in case Loki ever went nuts on him (like now) he would never have thought Loki might like to take the submissive role in sex.

Yeah, well,  _submissive_ . There was literally  _nothing_ submissive about Loki right now. He was the one in control - and not just because his teeth were so close to something Jean would like to stay attached to him, thank you very much -, a cat playing with the mouse, a panther poised for a kill. He determined how much pleasure Jean would get, whether or not he mixed it with pain, and when he would allow him the mercy of an orgasm.

_Jean had been in this position before._

He should have known better than to let himself get in it again (even if the orgasm was better than any other he had ever had)

Knowing there was nothing he could do now to stop it he let himself fall into the feeling of Loki's mouth on his thighs, feathering kisses up to where he wanted them and let himself shudder in lust - it was always better to show him how much you liked what he did. Loki was like an actor for his audience, and he would just up it as long as Jean wasn’t giving him the praise he sought for.

Let himself fall into the dark eyes, poisonous green almost swallowed up by the ever-hungry black void of the pupil, ignoring the feral way he displayed his teeth (but it made him swallow, and he felt fear run down his spine, and it made  _Loki's_ grin wider and his eyes even  _hungrier_ ). 

Slowly, oh so slowly Loki leaned in and lapped softly at the head of his cock that was now standing to attention (when had this happened?), then slurped him in like a too-big noodle.

The sight made him gasp in helpless arousal, turned his mind to mush and let lust pool deep in his stomach. A moan began to form in his throat and before he could even think about muffling it Loki began to suck him in earnest, and that wiped every thought from his mind but for the strong, powerful motion. Dimly he felt Loki grin -  _Bastard_ \- but when he returned fully to his task even this brief flash of anger was sucked out of him, leaving him with the feeling of being devoured wholly by the being at his feet that now upped the game and caressed his balls with a deceptively light touch by his long fingers.

A shudder ran through him, even more powerful than before, and his knees gave in until he was held almost fully by that powerful grip on his hip - and that thought  _really_ shouldn't turn him on that much, or make his cock twitch like mad where Loki now licked it delicately like a cat might, sapping his milk-white precome.

He had fully given up trying to keep the sounds in Loki elicited from him, moaning and sighing shamelessly in mindless need, hanging there in a wanton void. He wanted ...  _needed_ ... more,  _pleeeease_ ...

He didn't knew weather he had been able to communi cate his need (and Loki had decided to show mercy) or if Loki had just decided to give him this on his own but only a moment later he felt his lips at the head of his cock and then he was swallowed fully  _again_ .

Whimpering he endured for a moment, before he felt himself hit the end of Loki's throat, and then the man swallowed around him - and swallowed again, and  _again_ .

Maybe he was shouting, maybe sobbing or moaning - the only thing he knew was that lust exploded within him white-hot and  blazing , letting his legs give in and taking his mind with it. He wanted to come.  _Needed_ to ... his cock hung between his legs heavy and almost painfully hard ...  _please_ ...

Words tumbled out of his mouth, begging, pleading ... "Loki ... need to ... please,  _please_ , let me come ... ah! ...  _please_ ..."

And the bastard of course decided to leave him and he felt himself sobbing at the loss of the warm wet mouth around his cock, when teeth began to scrape over him, and a clever tongue flitted over the underside. Moaning he tried to move against the restraining hand so he could lean better into the play, moaning his appreciation.

But Loki couldn't let him come - he had promised him a  _long_ blowjob, after all - but had to continue, working him up with his warm mouth until he was at the brink, then releasing him and just carefully playing with him until he saw himself in his mind's eye as the mouse dreaming of escape when the panther is only playing with it.

Every touch, every small sound, every hint of teeth or tongue or breath send lust in hot waves throughout his whole worked-up body until his knees were so weak he couldn't hold himself up anymore and he was drowning in sensations. His fingers scraped over the wall beside him - a last rest of self preservation telling him that he wouldn't enjoy trying to hold onto  _Loki_ -, not finding anything and in his desperation latched onto his own nipples, the ache sharp against the almost painful pleasure he suffered, while he pleaded for a release he feared wouldn't come anymore.

He was long hoarse when the lips and tongue suddenly vanished from him, leaving him sobbing and leaning blind into where they had been only moments before.

Opening his eyes they fell onto Loki's upturned, hungry and pleased face, and it almost did him in - how could he look like this? How could he not - " _please_ , Loki, can't ... please ..." ... he needed him to continue, needed him to "Ah!"

Going down to business at last Loki latched onto his cock, swallowing around it, playing with his fingers over his balls and then pushing and - light danced around Jean, lust speared him in a hot, sharp glance and he cried out - he was so close,  _please don't stop_ \- but this time Loki swallowed  _again_ and there was another push along his prostrate and the painful pleasure keeping him down broke, setting him free in a shock of light and color, searing hot-cold-bright along his senses and letting him break apart.

 

He came back to the feeling of Loki still swallowing around him, painful now that he had gotten release, and he moaned and tried to wiggle free from the hand Loki still had on him.

Thankfully his boss gave in and leaned back, looking if anything contemplating.  _Bastard!_

"You were right", he said, his voice thoughtful while Jean was still trying to catch his breath. "I was really  premature ."

No t that Jean didn't agree with him, but: "You're welcome, you bastard.", he said, trying to  adjust his clothes while Loki had already turned away back to his office as if he hadn't just blown Jean 's brain to jupiter and back.

It took him a while until he remembered how to use his legs and then he stumbled - really,  _literally_ , stumbled, as if he was a toddler or something - back into his kitchen where he sank down on a chair and tried to get his mind working again.

_Fuck. Loki._

What had he thought, letting this bastard anywhere near his cock again?

Well, nothing, obviously. Or he wouldn't have done it.

Though, okay, he had done it to save some miscreant's miserable life (not that he was sure whoever it was even deserved getting his life saved. Living with Loki really made you a cynic about human nature).

It took him a while to recover enough to remember what he had been doing before Loki came down like an avenging god and when he did he cursed the god anew - the meat was getting cold, and as if that wasn't enough his timetable wasn't adding up anymore.

"Bastard!", he swore, again, before deciding that dinner took precedence - people, and most of all men in a mood like the one Loki had been in a few ... minutes? hours? ago needed something to eat before they actually hurt someone.

Which meant ... Jean went on searching for two other pans and a pot, than poured some oil into the former and the processed cheese into the latter. Pans hot, pot on middle heat and stirring. Adding crêpe-dough to the oil - carefully spread out so it was as thin as his mother's housekeeper showed him - and the meat and onions to the cheese.

Stirring the filling.

Turning the crepes over, then letting them slide onto a plate and rolling them up before he put them into the oven (heating the oven so the crepes would stay warm). Adding the next dollop of dough. Pretty easy, just time-intensive. (And look who’s to blame for Jean not having enough time?)

Adding spices to the filling (pepper was getting scant, and he could buy salt, too, when he was at it ... maybe he should take Mary out to the supermarket with him. Would take him away from this insane house for a bit, at least).

Another two crepes ready, rolled up and put on the plate in the oven before the continued with the rest of the dough (one day he would get insane by the amount of food Loki and Sigyn ate. But not as long as they were so obviously enjoying it.)

Speaking of Loki - he had used magic.  _A lot of it_ , going by the feel Jean had had. He might need extras today.

Groaning Jean considered his options (he wouldn't even do it if not for the fact that Loki had improved the sensitiveness of his aesir taste buds to appreciate his meals in a way no-one else did) (well, this giant brother of his that they had over that one day could, but they hadn't been allowed to tell him that Loki was a jotun, too, and Jean was fairly sure that telling them Byleistr was his  _brother_ had been an unwanted slip of Loki's tongue, so that took the comfortableness right out of the meal).

Well, it all boiled down to either making more crêpes, or preparing a dessert, and since he had no more minced meat to add to the filling it seemed the latter was the only viable option.

Just ... what to prep are? Something filling, but preferable not sweet - if Loki ever sat down and understood that Jean had to make dessert every time he threw a temper tantrum Jean would prefer it if that didn't equal sweet things. Loki was smart - he would just fake the outbursts of rage. Damn  his sweet tooth . Like a small child sometimes (Who was he kidding -  _ sometimes _ ? Always!). But it still ha d to be made quickly, something he could prepare while the crêpes were still sizzling away on the stove.

Well, he should still have ... yes, there were the grapes. Now just a bit of gouda  cut into cubes , and put together on some of these little metal sticks Loki owned because wooden toothpicks encouraged tree-killing. Or something like that (this was one of the times when Jean wasn't sure whether Loki really believed what he said (well, according to him humanity didn't deserve earth) or was just playing  _Louis de St.Marin_ , owner of a company build on people’s will to do good).

In-between cheese-chopping he had to take care of the crepes and keep the clock in his eye - he prided himself to serve dinner always at the same time (no easy task, considering who he was cooking for) and he would really hate if Loki's killing attempt had ruined his momentary success streak.

But eventually everything was finished, and he needed only to ring for the rest of the bunch to come.

 

Really, his uncle had been right all along - being a cook was the same like being a magician:

You couldn’t be a one-trick-pony or you bored your audience (and they got bored/hungry and went off to kill people).

Sometimes you needed to show them the best tricks (when they were already angry and you needed to stop them from running off to kill people).

And for the last thing you needed a wand (okay, his uncle meant his spoon, but Jean would choose his dick anytime).

 

Well, there was still the thing about the rabbit, but Jean hoped that he would be forgiven for not taking a metaphor too far. He really preferred rabbits in his pots, not in his wardrobe.

 

**Author's Note:**

> That recipe actually exists. Just make crêpes the way you like them (though without sugar), but add (for two-three persons) the smaller half of an onion as well as salt and pepper to the dough. Fry the rest of the onions with ca. 300g minced meat, add ca. 400g processed cheese and stir until it’s melted, then add mushrooms (or spinach, that’s delicious as well), fill the mass in the crêpes and roll them up.


End file.
